Escape
by schemester
Summary: Neville needs a place to go to think during his seventh year at Hogwarts, but he's not alone in these corridors.


**Disclaimer:** Luna, Neville, and all of _Harry Potter_ belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is intended for entertainment, not profit.

**Author's Note:** Done for a wish challenge at Hogwarts is Home on Livejournal. Writer's Block community. Reviews are appreciated!

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Neville needed somewhere to think. A place where the Carrows wouldn't find him. And he knew just the place, but at this time of night he wished Harry were still at Hogwarts. He might have been able to borrow his invisibility cloak.

He wracked his brain for a charm he knew could do a good enough job, but it wasn't coming. "Merlin's beard, get it together, Neville!" he whispered harshly at himself. "You're a seventh year...you're supposed to know things so simple as a—as a Disillusionment charm! Yes!"

Wand in hand, Neville stood up from his four-poster and cast the charm over his head. He couldn't help but shiver as he felt the cold trickling down his body. He turned to what should have been his reflection in the mirror, but all he could see was a thin outline of _something_ human, no doubt about that.

"Hmm, not the best, but it will have to do," he murmured, turning away from the safety of his dormitory and out onto the seventh-floor landing.

The seventeen year old looked around, trying to see if either of the Carrows were out patrolling. When he was sure he could at least get to the sixth floor without incident, Neville walked down the stone steps, wand raised at any hint of danger.

Some of the portraits would glance in his direction at times, but none said anything. Neville could have even sworn that a picture of two handsome late nineteenth century wizards had winked at him as he quietly walked by.

For once, it appeared that the Carrows and the Death Eaters were on the lower floors, perhaps even having a meeting. Neville wouldn't put it past them to be testing out new ways to use the Unforgivable Curses on half-bloods that they had stolen from their beds.

When Neville reached the threshold of the corridor that would lead him straight to the Room of Requirement, he noticed something strange. A wisp of blonde hair? Cautiously, the Gryffindor walked down the hallway, his breath coming in short intervals. At the end of the corridor, where it opened up into another passageway, Neville pushed his back against the castle wall.

He slowly turned to peer around the edge, and there he saw Luna Lovegood, pacing back and forth before the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Neville cursed under his breath at her stupidity.

Luna quickly spun on her heels and looked around at her surroundings. That was when Neville noticed that she had her Spectrespecs on, the Loony.

"Who's there?" she breathed, yet still with that dreamy quality to her voice. Eyes wide, she walked in Neville's direction.

Neville stopped breathing, hoping she wouldn't find him, if only for the sake to see how well the charm had done. Luna stopped a couple of feet away, a hand in her robes.

"Hm. You have wrackspurts all over you, Neville," Luna remarked, pulling out her wand. She closed the distance between them and reversed the Disillusionment charm, revealing the seventh year. Sliding her Spectrespecs up into her hair, she smiled at him.

"L-Luna—how?" Neville questioned, pulling the sixth year beside him.

The blonde gazed into his eyes and said, "The wrackspurts, Neville. Yours are different from any others I have seen. A different aura, perhaps."

"Uh...okay," Neville stumbled, blushing from embarrassment, "We—we should get into the Room of Requirement. I don't particularly care to meet the Carrows tonight, do you?"

"Certainly not," Luna replied simply. She pulled on the sleeves of his robe and led him to a door that had suddenly materialized where a blank wall had been before.

"We'll be safe here, Neville," Luna happily said as they entered the room, decorated in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor colors.

Neville just watched her skip around the room, unmistakably adding two hammocks, a bookshelf, and other various knickknacks to the place. All he could do was ponder when she had had the time to apparently notice that his "wrackspurts" were different than the others. (If they even existed, Neville always told himself.) Another soft color heated up his cheeks when Luna turned and smiled at him again. "Loony" Lovegood or not, she was a wonder.


End file.
